


Darkness Is All I Need

by Tranquil_Tevine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Remus, Child Abuse, Drinking, Molestation, OOC, Protective Snape, Remus is a Shithead, friendly Snape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2018-10-01 23:25:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10203215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tranquil_Tevine/pseuds/Tranquil_Tevine
Summary: After Sirius' death, Harry is stuck in a haze of monotony and Remus turns abusive. Can a certain Potions Master overcome the barrier between him and Harry, to help?





	1. Consuming Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many documents just sitting on here, I feel like I should post them and see what people think. You'll have to inform me if archive warnings do apply because I don't know how graphic violence needs to be in order to have to place a warning in there.

It was an endless abyss if he stared long enough into it. Harry had spent so much time in Regulus' old room, that varying shades of black in the darkness of the drawn curtains could be located. He was doubly sure he could pinpoint the different shades of black on a colour wheel, though black was technically not a colour if prompted.

 

It had been 2 days, with only a slight change. It was one of those moments where his mind only processed it after it had happened a few minutes later, yet at the same time, it was agonisingly slow. As his Godfather fell through the veil, it was as though his very life force was being drained away before his eyes. His last glimpse of him was a former shell of his childish but well-meaning self, as he passed on. _'Never to return.'_  Harry tried to tell himself sternly.

 

There was a reason why the Veil was in the Department of Mysteries. Not a lot except speculation was around the curious piece of ancient technology. If nothing had been confirmed, such as it being the one-way road to death, then Sirius could be stuck by a mere technicality? Bellatrix's spell never actually connected before Sirius fell through.

 

The more times he told himself not to cling onto that stubborn hope, the more he refused to let it go.

 

The first few hours after his death, his stomach and senses felt almost numbed, as if time continued normally, yet he was the one stuck in slow motion.

 

Today, the numbness had turned into unexplainable anxiety and a slight burning feeling. He was confused. Was he not supposed to be grieving? He had shed tears spontaneously, but he'd always pictured in his mind if someone he cared about died, he'd spiral out of control or have endless floods of tears. But it was nothing. In a way, he was the one in limbo. There was no body to bury and no actual confirmation that he was dead, so he was stuck in the middle. He hated this.

 

He wanted to go and see Remus but wasn't sure what he would say or if he'd even welcome his miserable company. Some people preferred the solitude of working through their own problems, others couldn't get through the day without some sort of moral support.

 

Harry enjoyed having support when he could, but he was so used to being denied it, that it was almost second nature to hide his own issues from other people and try to deal on his own.

 

Suddenly, he was sick of those varying shades of black in the darkness of Regulus' room. He needed to walk about the house a bit.

 

It was when he was descending the stairs, that he bumped into the man that had briefly occupied his thoughts.

 

“Hello Remus.” he greeted politely, a lack of a decent response ringing on the tip of his tongue.

 

The elder man's eyes seemed to look straight into his soul. “Don't, Harry. Just don't.”

 

It was 4 words, but he knew. “I understand.”

 

He flinched badly at the noise of hand connecting with cheek, then the resulting pain.

 

“You know nothing.” he uttered coldly. Not sparing him a backward glance, he went to Sirius' room.

 

Harry didn't even bother rubbing his face. He knew he probably deserved it. Remus blamed him for Sirius' fate. He could understand why as well. He didn't, however. Though he knew he was definitely some of the blame, Bellatrix, Dumbledore, Kreacher and even Snape to an extent all contributed into the massively tangled fuck up that was his life right now.

 

Bellatrix, while not dealing the killing blow, may very well have done. Would have done even if the Veil wasn't there since her spell was a finely aimed AK. It was either her intention to fight in this specific spot with Sirius after eyeing an opportunity, or just a result which she didn't expect, but otherwise benefited from. Either way, it was a win-win situation for her.

 

Though Harry hated to say it, Sirius rushing off into the utter madness of Death Eaters and Order Members while he was still classed as a criminal and not even battle ready, not having really recovered from his 12-year stay at Azkaban didn't help matters.

 

Snape. Oh boy. These days Harry didn't even have the energy to hate the man. At the end of the day, it wasn't going to get him anywhere. He would let Snape continue those feelings, but they weren't returned. If he had actually acted like a teacher instead of trying to torment him during Occlumency, he may have learned how to block Voldemort's visions effectively. While it was true he didn't apply himself, there was only so far he could go without practical instruction, he was always a better learner by listening than reading.

 

The only time he'd spared a thought to Dumbledore was how many ways one could strangle the old coot with his beard. Though for right now, he was resentful. Resentful of the fact that for the entire year, he had been told nothing. While he may have been worried about eye contact, there was nothing to stop him from feeding him information via a note or by other means. He was over 100, Harry was sure he could've thought of something.

 

And finally, him. If he hadn't had rushed off much like Sirius, they may not even be in the situation that they were. It would be stupid for him to take all the blame and he knew Remus was just angry. He was beginning to think the slap was harder than he thought, as he tasted blood at the corner of his mouth and his neck muscles were hurting.

 

He entered the library, digging around for the key to the alcohol cabinet.

 

“Fuck it,” he muttered. ”I have nothing to lose, other than my dignity. Lost that years ago.”

 

In a few seconds, he removed one of the full bottles of Firewhisky. He wasn't in the mood to vomit everywhere, so paced himself, until the drunken haze mixed with the pain in his cheek. He would certainly prefer this to the numbness or the anxious feeling that he had earlier, at any rate.

 

He frowned when suddenly, he started to feel a bit worse than he had before. Why? He didn't ponder on the question much, instead leaning his back against the armchair on the floor, drawing up his knees and seeing how many more different shades of black he could find in the library. A lone tear fell from his eye, to splash into nothingness as it mixed with some alcohol spillage on the floor.

 

“Potter!”

 

Though the tone of voice was sharp, Harry merely reacted as though it were a question. He cocked his head up at the intruder, not saying a word.

 

Severus Snape wasn't often shocked speechless, but then again, it wasn't often that one saw Potter drinking like a sailor, with a ruddy massive hand shaped bruise on his cheek and a split lip. He had seen many a dead body, the eyes were lifeless. Potter's eyes held no spark, they were dulled, glass orbs.

 

“Yes, Sir?” he asked politely.

 

 _'Trust Potter to only ever respect his elders when not in control of himself.'_   Snape sneered to himself. It looked as though he'd had a full bottle, but he could detect no slurring of words. He found to his disgust, that he was feeling sorry for him and was angered by the sight of his bruise. If it was that damned wolf, he had more than a few words.

 

“Come with me,” he stated. Seeing Potter in such a pitiful state was dampening his rather good mood. He might dislike the boy, but the memories that he had witnessed during their sessions over the school year had pointed out some irrefutable facts about the boys' home life which Snape couldn't ignore.

 

Many a student and staff member would joke that Grimmauld Place fitted him perfectly but in truth, he hated the house just as much as Black had, especially the irremovable hag firmly planted on the wall, putting his sneers to shame and slagging off every Non-Pureblooded, that meant Non-Inbred, person who dared to walk by her.

 

He'd take the boy with him to the dungeons at Hogwarts and sort him out, to hell with the headmaster and that bloody wolf.

 

Harry was so confused. He could be certain that this was Snape, but where were his bark and bite? He had neither in his tone of voice if he were honest.

 

“Where to?” Sober Harry cringed a little. Could he sound like more of a child? Nevertheless, he did make a valiant effort to stand up and would have succeeded, if not for the wet patch of whisky on the wooden floor.

 

The man grabbed hold of Harry by the waist, releasing him on solid and non-slippery footing, before taking him by the hand.

 

Harry had the ridiculous urge to snort. Snape was holding his hand. Were they in a relationship?

 

Ah.

 

He did wonder why it sounded as though he wasn't slurring his words. Apparently, alcohol gave him delusions instead.

 

His question of their destination wasn't answered. Instead, they were about to leave Grimmauld place when Remus was in front of them. He couldn't hold back the physically visible flinch, jerking on the other man's arm. He bowed his head and felt on the verge of tears. Where was his self-control?

 

Snape smirked at the look of horror where Lupin got a glimpse of Potter's face.

 

“Where are you going? Harry can't leave the protection of Grimmauld, it's not safe!”

 

“Ah, I see. Not safe, hmm? Bruises in the shape of hand prints are?” The man was a connoisseur of words, choosing to roll them about on his tongue to taste, then letting them slip.

 

He didn't even let the man answer.

 

“So much for him being your precious cub.” he practically spat out the words. “Piss off Lupin you flea bitten mutt, I've no time for you today!” he finally snarled, almost yanking on Harry's arm socket until he remembered and tugged him gently.

 

Snape could barely restrain himself from rolling his eyes at Potter's hysterical giggling.

 

“You told him to piss off! But shh-” he tried holding a finger to Snape's lips but could only reach his chin, “You said a bad word.”

 

He coaxed the boy to drink a stomach calmer before they apparated, lest they leave a technicolour yawn behind painting the pathway.

 

He chose his private quarters, despite his initial first thought of that not being the best idea. The surge of pity he was experiencing for Potter was going to change him if he didn't watch out. He pushed him gently into an armchair, going to manually retrieve one of his bruise salves. They didn't react well with some magic, so it was best to treat them as 'Muggle' as possible.

 

It was only a few minutes and now that he'd had a proper look, the bruise was more severe than he'd thought. The whole side of one face looked shadowed, a part of his hand catching underneath his eye, for that was slightly swollen too.

 

He scooped out a fair amount, pressing his hand against Potter's chest to stop him from standing up.

 

“Be still, Potter.” he gently admonished, taking care to rub the salve in vigorously.

 

Harry was coming to his senses slightly and the urge to cringe was unbearable, but the hand on his chest stopped him from doing so. What was he doing here? His plans were a self-indulgent mope and alcohol, but he'd ended up being taken from Grimmauld while the man was rubbing something into his cheek. It was soothing, more so than the alcohol. He couldn't resist leaning into the touch slightly, with such little affection he received.

 

He watched as the boy closed his eyes, leaning into his touch. The action tugged at his long forgotten heartstrings. He looked so starved of affection. He rubbed his thumb smoothly up and down. He would never be a Molly Weasley, but he'd never denied a child comfort, particularly with his abused Snakes.

 

He tugged Potter up by his hand again, leading him to one of the guest bedrooms. Lupin could howl to Albus about him removing Potter, but he was perfectly safe at Hogwarts. He transfigured the rags which Potter passed for as clothing, removing his shoes and socks in the process.

 

He passed him a hangover potion, which the boy drank without question. Admittedly it did worry him slightly. He was either too trusting or trusted him. Or, the alcohol had affected his sense of judgment. He was happy that he had drunk it, for it held a mild sleeping draught within. He waited as Potter slept for a few minutes, before leaving to brew potions and in the process, deal with his new thoughts.


	2. Hope Despite Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's lost in his grief and a different darkness introduces itself. Will this one help Harry to find himself rather than to lose?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no upload schedule for this, the only one I do is for Eyes of Avada Green, the rest I post when the mood takes me unless there's ever requests to see more in which case I probably would set an upload schedule :)

Harry hadn't a clue what time it was, but he was feeling more refreshed than he'd had in a long while. The fact that he'd actually slept properly from the looks of things probably helped.

 

He didn't recognise the room he was in at all. If he'd had to peg anywhere, it looked like Hogwarts. Why was he at Hogwarts? From what he remembered, he'd been in the library chugging whisky.

 

Oh, wait.

 

In bits and pieces, the memory of what happened last night came back to him. Snape must have healed the bruise. He was thankful, but at the same time, it was depressing. He no doubt deserved that slap and it made a change from feeling somewhat dead inside.

 

It was better now than never to face the music. He had no idea what time it was and there was no alarm clock or wand to cast Tempus, but he'd find out.

 

The room he was in was nice, not lavishly furnished but clean with no dark corners, unlike Grimmauld. Once over he'd found comfort in the darkness but now, he felt as though he'd be lost in it forever if he lingered too long.

 

Opening the door and marvelling at no creaks, he searched the area. It became obvious to him that he was in Snape's private quarters. Questions of why among other things ran through his mind, but he chose to perhaps ask them later. He couldn't find the Professor, so instead curled up on one of the chairs.

 

Now that he was sober, he suddenly wished he wasn't. He had nothing to distract his mind nearby, not even the dark corners. The more time passed as he sat there, the more his emotions overwhelmed him.

 

_'He's gone. He's actually gone. He's never coming back. For the rest of my life, however long I may live, he won't be here to see it.'_

 

He shook slightly with silent sobs, but his body stopped trembling as he bit his own lip to no avail and tried to stop the tears. Seeing this as a lost cause, he just stared into space, blinking occasionally as tear tracks marred his face.

 

He wasn't sure how long he'd been there, but he was beyond startled when rough fingers wiped the tear tracks from his eyes. He looked into a pair of black orbs, not truly seeing them, still lost in the sudden realisation that he would never see Sirius again. He thought he'd heard someone call his name, but it barely registered as the world around him faded, lost in memories of what could have been.

 

He was manoeuvred out of the human ball he'd created, only to be stood up and the all-encompassing black returned. At first, he thought he was in Regulus' room for a moment, but the smell he associated with Potions class confirmed to him that this was, in fact, his Professor. He was furthermore surprised when a hand settled at his back, rubbing soothingly and for the other to take a place upon his head, carding through the unruly locks.

 

If he wasn't so lost in his silent grief, he would have laughed at his current position. His greasy bat of a professor hugging him? The world had surely ended. Though last night and right now, he was being incredibly nice. He wondered what the man wanted in return for his kindness because there was always a price. Sirius had been nice to him, then he was taken away from Harry as a result.

 

“It is fine to cry, Potter. Do not hold back. It is a natural part of the grieving process.”

 

With those firmly spoken words, it was as if a dam was burst. He could no longer keep his cries silent and the man held on to the boy more firmly and reassuringly. Damn the blasted Wolf. This wasn't meant to be his job, though he knew all well of jobs falling to him which he didn't necessarily enjoy completing, it was a necessity. No one else seemed to be doing anything to help and he'd be damned if he left a child in need.

 

It was then that he relocated to the sofa, allowing the boy to lean against his side. In a show of vulnerability, Harry held onto his hand. The man allowed it, instead settling it onto his lap so he could overlap it, stroking soothingly.

 

For a moment, Severus thought that Potter had fallen asleep until he adjusted his position so he was looking up at him with misty green eyes.

 

“Not that I'm not grateful or anything, but why?”

 

There were many reasons as to why, though by the look on his face he knew which one specifically. He rubbed on Harry's shoulder slowly, formulating a response.

 

“You may be the child of the woman I loved and the man I hated, but that doesn't mean to say I want to see you in pain. Lupin's actions were deplorable and I have half a mind to tell Albus to relocate you. What's the use of being safe from The Dark Lord when you're in danger by your own family?”

 

Harry could see his point, but the little knot in his stomach was starting to build. He honestly didn't blame himself for Sirius' death but Remus' words, or lack of them, was leaving him to form his own conclusions. He rubbed his eyes wearily, finally leaning away from the man to sit properly next to him.

 

“You can't deny I deserved that slap, though. I deserve several with everything I've done over the years."

 

He swallowed when the man growled, reluctantly meeting his eyes when he tilted his chin up.

 

“True family, don't hit their own. He'd better apologise once he sees you again.”

 

“Will you threaten him with flea shampoo?” Harry whispered, smiling slightly.

 

He didn't bother holding back his snort. “A good idea.”

 

It was almost surreal, Harry getting on with his Professor as he was, but he enjoyed the few hours he had speaking with him, until one Albus Dumbledore, resident bastard (Harry was still irritated with him) flooed into the room.

 

“Hello my boy, I've come to take you back to headquarters.” he smiled, eyes twinkling.

 

Resigned, Harry got to his feet, considerably more nervous about returning, though the subtle shoulder squeeze from Snape as he stood up was of some comfort.

 

“We will speak later, Headmaster,” Snape spoke sharply. The man nodded his consent, before ushering Harry into the flames.


	3. Where Do We Go From Here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything looked to be going well and Harry was cautiously optimistic. But if there was anything of note he'd learned while living with his Relatives, it was to never expect good things to last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday! 20. Damn I'm leaving my teen years behind, scary thought! So this is a gift to myself, another chapter update xD I really do enjoy writing.

Harry refused to meet Remus' eyes when they'd relocated to the living room and couldn't help but flinch when he placed a hand on his cheek. The shock and impact of the slap and the resulting damage it caused was still fresh on his mind, not to mention that The Dursleys do the very same thing. That and worse.

 

“Harry-” the raw emotion in Remus' voice startled him. “I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking straight. I'm thankful Severus healed you. Can you forgive me?” He glimpsed briefly at the man and saw what he thought was true remorse, but he could never be sure. Uncle Vernon was a master at being sincere when in truth, he was anything but.

 

 _'Well I can forgive, but I can't forget.'_   Harry noted sadly but outwardly gave a smile and a nod to the man.

 

Despite Snape's words, he couldn't help but think he deserved it.

 

It was a few days later at Grimmauld Place and Harry thought things were going well. He was getting along fine with Remus and more often than not, his thoughts were filled with Snape. Why did he help him, why was he at ease more with the man he'd hated since he was 11 than one of the few connections to his family?

 

The answer came to him with startling clarity.

 

Snape had never physically hurt him. The jar didn't count in Harry's opinion because he'd definitely deserved it. That and it wasn't directly aimed at him. Indeed, though they'd never got on with the exception of recently, he'd been trying his best to protect him.

 

His head jerked up with a start when the door to his bedroom opened with a slam. It only took a few seconds for it to register that Remus had been drinking before hands were wrapped around his throat. Despite clawing at Remus for him to release the tight grip, his werewolf strength won out. Black dots formed in the corners of his eyes before he was dropped, his knees hitting the wood with a thump. Before he could recover, a swift kick to his stomach sent him skidding with a crash into one of the bedposts.

 

It was Uncle Vernon and Dudley all over again. He looked once into Remus' eyes and never had the desire to afterward. But the choice was taken from him as his head was jerked with a painful wrench.

 

“ALL. YOUR. FAULT!” Spittle flecked across Harry's face, yet he remained silent as a patch of hair was ripped from his scalp, years of Dursley conditioning allowed him to fall back into the familiar routine.

 

Throughout it all, he remained stoic, a punching bag for the last of the true Marauders to take out his anger on. He was sure at least one bone was broken.

 

A hand reached for the waistband of his jeans, loosening them.

 

Wait.

 

It slipped beneath the denim and his underwear, curling a hand to grip around his soft member.

 

“You're just like your father.”

 

 _'Uncle Vernon never did this! God, please, no!'_   he begged silently. His panic and desperation were overwhelming him when all of a sudden, a flash of light so bright that he had to shield his eyes, knocked Remus unconscious.

 

Taking advantage of his good luck, he was relieved when the Floo Network wasn't disconnected. He went to the one person who had shown him care.

 

“Severus Snape's Quarters, Hogwarts.”

 

His words were no more than a rasp as the hands round his neck had damaged his vocal chords. He was never graceful stepping out of the Floo when able bodied, but with his various injuries he couldn't help but let out a whimper when he scraped across the stone floor.

 

He barely had the energy to look up all the way as he saw his Professor sprinting into the room, wand out. He didn't spot Harry until he wheezed.

 

“P-please help me.” Tears leaked from the corner of his eyes, the shards from his broken glasses sticking into his skin. Not near his eyes, thankfully.

 

Severus stuttered to a halt. The state that Potter was in previously paled in comparison to now. His ragged breaths gave an indication to internal injuries, while his face was a mass of swelling and bruising. What caused the most alarm, however, were the front of his jeans were unbuttoned. Lupin didn't, surely...

 

All this ran through his mind as he levitated his charge, placing him on the bed to Floo call one Albus Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey.

 

* * *

 

 

For all the man had his faults, Albus Dumbledore was not an advocate of child abuse. He took one look at Harry's battered body and looked every one of his years.

 

He collapsed, a conjured chair from the dour Professor saving his rear from bruising.

 

“Who?” he managed weakly, already having a suspicion.

 

“Lupin.” the man growled, causing Harry to whimper. Whether that was from the name or the tone of voice used, no one knew.

 

“He's not going back Albus, the man is clearly unstable after his friend's death.” Pomfrey glared at him as if daring to say otherwise.

 

He merely nodded in agreement, apparently lost for words, until he spoke once more.

 

“Severus?”

 

He knew where the old man was going. Before all this, he would have vehemently denied taking in the spawn of James Potter, but now, with Black gone, Potter truly had no one looking out for his well-being. Lupin was abusive and he was sure those muggles weren't a damn sight better either.

 

“I will.” he acquiesced.

 

A moment later, the Mediwitch had finished her examination. “I have healed all I could, though he will need a dose of Skele gro. I can do nothing for the mental trauma I'm afraid.”

 

Albus wanted to view Potter's memories, but both himself and Poppy said that it would be better once he was physically healed first. He understood their logic and after a few more words of advice, the pair left leaving him and Harry alone.

 

The man sat beside the boy and carded his hand through soft hair. He shut his eyes in contentment, falling asleep beneath the gentle pressure of his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what to call this chapter O.O


	4. I'll Be There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two people who had previously reached some sort of understanding, take one more step forwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To one particular commenter who really REALLY wanted to see more, here you go xD As I've said before I only have a daily upload schedule for Eyes of Avada Green but to those who've read the first chapter of Velvet & Silk, that will be the next one updated :)

Harry woke up with a start, wondering where the hell he was. What happened? Then, it all came rushing back and he fell to the floor with a crash, struggling to control his breathing, tugging at tufts of his hair.

 

  
Oh god, Remus. Why did he do that? Did he deserve it? He was so confused and lost in his own thoughts, he didn't know what to do.

 

  
He was unaware that there was someone else nearby until they reached out. He kicked feverishly when he was lifted from the ground but whoever had a hold of him was much stronger. Like Remus.

 

  
“Please don't hurt me, I'm sorry!" He tried to do what came naturally to him and curl into a ball but arms still wrapped around his torso.

 

  
“Breathe, Potter. Focus on my voice, in and out when I do.” A strangely familiar yet soothing voice near his ear.

 

  
The deep voice of his professor penetrated his panicked thoughts and slowly but surely, his breathing did return back to normal.

 

  
Harry let one long breath out, confident enough to lightly pull away from the man's arms once he recognised who it was and trusted him enough to accept what he knew, from personal experience, was a calming draught.

 

  
He drank deeply, instantly relieved when muscles he was unaware of tensing relaxed, the pain he was feeling lessened a little and his chaotic thoughts returned to some semblance of normalcy.

 

  
A cup was placed into his hands, the other pair remaining there for perhaps a split second longer than they needed to be. He leant back into the seat, drinking and enjoying the comfortable silence between them. Then, he was struck with a thought.

 

  
"What happens now?" Harry looked up at his Professor, wary and worried for the future.

 

  
_'Straight to the point as always.'_   Severus thought to himself, wondering how to break the news that Potter, Harry, he would have to get used to calling him that in private, would be under his care from now on. His greasy Potions professor, the man who had tormented him as much as Pot- _'Harry!'_   he told himself sternly, Harry's father had him.

 

  
He sensed his companions rising anxiety. He could think more on this later as it was best for him to know.

 

"Harry," Severus started, catching his attention if the slight widening of his eyes was any indication. "Due to certain individuals actions, the Headmaster has seen fit to ask of someone else to be your legal guardian. That someone is me." Severus prepared himself for the worst.

 

But contrary to Severus' belief, Harry didn't want to run away screaming, kicking and shouting at the unfairness, lash out or even cry. Well, if he was going to cry it wouldn't be out of sadness. He dared to hope though there was still a small seed of doubt. Did Dumbledore threaten him into doing this? If it was true he really did care...

 

Harry was feeling so emotionally fragile, so vulnerable when he'd started drinking. He was an utter mess, at his lowest moment. He'd expected him to laugh, perhaps even tell his Slytherins, but he did nothing of the sort. Instead, he'd helped him up, defended him against Remus, put up with his drunken antics, healed him and, well, comforted him. More than once. Obviously, after he'd come out of the floo battered and broken, (he didn't think of what happened before that, he wasn't sure he ever could.) he'd again been fixed.

 

He'd never had anyone there in those critical moments. Not Sirius, certainly not Remus. People had either laughed, spat at him or aggravated the situation. Like with Vernon, another good kick while he was on the ground usually sufficed. For someone to be there in those moments, the moments where all felt lost and he was so weary, meant the absolute world to him. He had attachment issues. Once Harry made a friend, that friendship was for life. He would die for his friends and family, happily so. For someone to prove that they weren't worthy of what love and trust he had, crushed his heart.

 

And Professor Snape wanted to take care of him? He would gladly accept. Some would say he was too trusting, especially after the life he'd lead, but never trusting could possibly lead down a path Harry didn't want to think of.

 

"Are you sure, sir?" he broached hesitantly. "I'm happy to accept your offer, but you might want to rethink having the likes of me staying with you." He averted his eyes then, focusing on a random point in the room.

 

Severus had the urge to either pinch the bridge of his nose or aggravate Lupin more. The latter was looking more and more welcoming as the seconds passed by. He didn't need Legilimency to follow the train of thought Harry was on.

 

It was getting easier to think of him as Harry when having mental debates with himself. He could speak his name out loud too without slip ups, he was certain.

 

"The headmaster was going to ask me," Severus started, looking at the back of Harry's head. "But I offered to before he could. I have seen a side of you that I never knew existed. I saw Potter, the insufferable arrogant little fool who refused to pull his weight in potions classes. But in a pitiful and sorrowful drunken heap on the floor that day, I saw YOU." He emphasised the last word, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I would like to try with you, Harry. If you're amenable. Years of hatred between us both won't dissipate in a few minutes but outside of school and in private, I would like to get to know you and in turn, you can find out more about me. Does that sound fair?"

 

Harry's small and pale hand covered Severus' own, still on his shoulder. He finally met the man's eyes and the elder was a little shocked by how much raw emotion showed.

 

"That sounds more than fair, sir."

 

He hesitated slightly, taking a sip of the tea in front of him. "You may call me Severus, when not in a classroom setting."

 

"I should like that...Severus."

 

For that moment, everything was normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have absolutely no idea where to go from here, other than the obvious :P


	5. Unwanted Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things were going well so far for Harry and Severus, Harry in particular. That is, until Dumbledore shows up, stirring up memories of which he'd rather forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap I'm such a dick, apologies everyone! I didn't expect people to like this as much as they did and I like it too, but it's been so long. I've been focused on updating Eyes of Avada Green weekly and any new ideas that hit me to the point of neglecting this and a few others, which is something I'm going to try and work on. I can't fix an upload schedule for any others but it's not going to be once every few months for this now, promise :O

It had been a week since Severus officially became Harry's guardian and while both of them found some situations to be awkward, they were getting along more smoothly than ever before. For now, Harry was staying in the guest bedroom, as Severus travelled to his home for a couple of hours each day in order to make it 'livable.' It was a quaint cottage inherited from the Prince line, but there were no house elves to help maintain it. It didn't occur to Harry at that moment until the topic of house-elves were brought up.

 

"S-Severus," Harry stumbled over his name, still not used to it as he mentally winced. "I might be able to help."

 

He received an arched brow in response. "Dobby?" Harry tried cautiously, jumping when said house elf appeared. He didn't actually think that would work.

 

"What can I be doing for Master Harry Potter Sir?" His excitement caused his large ears to flop about. He forgot just how energetic Dobby could be.

 

"Do you think you'd be able to help with something?" It was worth a try.

 

"Anything!" He nodded eagerly.

 

He crouched down at his level. "Professor Snape is making repairs to a property he owns. Would you be able to assist with that?"

 

"Dobby is not being able to enter the Prince property unless he is being bonded to Professor Snape."

 

Harry looked at Severus. "Would you bond with Dobby?"

 

Severus barely restrained rolling his eyes at the elf's watery orbed gaze. He always found house elves to be overly dramatic but knew that Potter had freed this one from the clutches of Lucius, a fact which he never failed to find amusing.

 

He had no need or want of a house elf, however, he couldn't deny having a pair of extra hands wouldn't hurt. While Harry had offered his assistance more than once, he had no wish to remind him of the time with his relatives.

 

"Very well." Severus nodded his assent, linking hands. With his free hand, Dobby snapped his fingers, a flash of golden light bursting between them, fading a moment later.

 

"Dobby is being able to enter the Prince property, Harry Potter Sir."

 

Well, he'd dropped Master at least, now that he had an official one. Now all he needed to do was drop Sir and Potter and they would be well on their way.

 

Harry gave a lopsided grin, removing one of his socks, formerly Dudleys, which had more holes than Swiss Cheese. He held back a laugh at Severus' muffled sound of disgust, kneeling to Dobby's level and presenting him with it.

 

"Although his expression may sometimes resemble that of a Stormcloud, I can guarantee as much as this is a sock," Harry gestured to said sock, "That he'll treat you well."

 

Dobby's eyes faintly misted over with tears. "I shall be taking good care of it." Harry didn't doubt that, as he gave the sock the same kind of look a mother would her newborn, the thought filling him with mirth.

 

Dobby then placed the sock on his foot. It was just as well they were Dudley's really, he forgot to take Dobby's feet size into account.

 

Though Severus, even from a young age had a firm grasp of the English language and how to effectively use it, all words failed him for the moment. That didn't stop him from glaring at Harry, however.

 

Stormcloud indeed.

 

As Severus returned to his property accompanied by Dobby, Harry allowed himself a moment to breathe. He'd had the opportunity for several since coming to stay here, the novelty of that not having worn off just yet, muscles tense due to the amount of time he'd spent with his guard raised, at Hogwarts, at Grimmauld Place and his relatives. It was nice to be able to relax for once.

 

Just as that thought crossed his mind, a knock resounded on the door. Before Harry could so much as speak it opened, revealing someone who he'd rather not see. He couldn't help but feel wary and more than fearful.

 

As Dumbledore entered, Harry seeing him for the first time since sending him off to headquarters, he had to avert his eyes at the sadness he saw there, usual twinkle non-existent.

 

"Harry, my boy."

 

He stiffened further, silently waiting for him to continue.

 

"Can you forgive an old man his mistakes? I only wanted what was best for you, to be with the last living connection to your parents after both you and Remus having lost Sirius."

 

Harry couldn't prevent his flinch, whether it was at Remus or Sirius he didn't know, both a sore topic for him at the moment, for different reasons.

 

Harry looked Dumbledore in the eye, as difficult as he found that to be right now. "I can forgive, but I can't forget."

 

The very thing he'd thought, when Remus at the time, seemed to genuinely apologise.

 

Sorrow crossed Dumbledore's expression for a moment, but Harry wasn't swayed. Not only had he ignored Harry in the past whenever he brought his home life up, he was the one who placed him with his relatives, to begin with. He couldn't find it in himself to be quite so forgiving.

 

Dumbledore seemed robbed of speech for the moment but sadly, it didn't remain so. Every time Dumbledore asked something of him, it was never easy.

 

"Harry. Now that you are awake and on your way to recovery, I wish to view your memories of the event, if you would permit me."

 

His point, right there.

 

While it was true within the first three days, any traces of physical damage had left his body, he now had one more nightmare to contend with when attempting to get some sleep. Not that Severus knew. Harry trusted him of course, but at this point he thought it was laughable approaching Severus after having a nightmare, not to mention childish and embarrassing. So usually, staying up late into the night and allowing himself to fall asleep the early hours of the morning rendered him too tired to dream much. In theory that is. Not that it always worked.

 

"I don't particularly want to remember it." The mere thought made Harry nauseous, neither of them had taken a seat, Dumbledore still just within the door's entrance.

 

"If you are able to provide physical evidence, my boy, Remus can receive the help he needs."

 

At this, Harry hesitated, heart torn. Despite everything, he cared about what happened to Remus, as pathetic as it sounded. He knew he was just as distraught over Sirius as he was, though it didn't justify his actions, as Harry hadn't lashed out in that way at all. He understood that grief affected people differently but hurting someone you supposedly care about was something else entirely.

 

It was with mixed feelings that Harry wordlessly nodded his assent. While his relationship with Remus would never be the same, right now he had no desire to be within 10 feet of the man let alone in the same room and holding a conversation, but if his memory of the event could help aid Remus with Professional help, then it was worth it, right?

 

Harry braced himself, more than weary due to the experience of having Severus rummage around in his head but surprisingly, Dumbledore's touch was gentle and cautious. Not that it prevented him from reacting less strongly. It was only a few seconds, but he saw everything again.

 

Not noticing when Dumbledore left his mind he dropped to his knees, the pain of them hitting stone not registering, along with any outside influence. All he could see, like a video clip stuck in a loop, was Remus kicking, punching, pulling and violating him.

 

"Fuck! No!" His scream tore at Dumbledore and in a rare moment of panic as he couldn't get Harry to respond, he used Severus' Floo, calling out for the assistance of Madam Pomfrey. Had he asked for too much too soon?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea where I'm taking this story, but the one I update weekly I free write anyway, so I'll manage :P

**Author's Note:**

> Some of what Harry is feeling is how I felt at the time when I found out my friend died in January. I started this on the day she died and I worked some of how I was feeling into this, so it's as genuine as it's going to get.


End file.
